


Withered Rose

by chamomilechia



Series: Rose Petals [1]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Other, could be read as one-sided interest from Mark, just as a warning: from chapter 2 things start to get a little darker, just not as lovers, not exactly romantic, nothing visual but it hits homebase if you have any type of depression or anxiety history, so you know, they do hold the other to an elevated state of dearness though, they do love each other, they genuinely care for each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamomilechia/pseuds/chamomilechia
Summary: Mark, alone and in pain, invites his dear friend to the Manor to share a beautiful evening with them, asking them to stay the night with the promise that the next morning, they'll talk things out.Unfortunately it's not enough and as it'll turn out in the endgame, Mark needs them more then he will ever admit.At last, what is a rose after all of its petals have withered away?
Relationships: Actor Mark/ Y/N | The District Attorney, Mark Fischbach & Y/N | The District Attorney, Mark Fischbach/Y/N | The District Attorney
Series: Rose Petals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682836
Kudos: 22





	1. Fireflies in the air, waterfalls on your face

It was a beautiful summer night, the oddest of the season. 

Some ghostly presence was floating around, spirits of past lives and a history of death saturated the air with a buzz.

Fireflies were flying around you, shining like stars fallen from the luminous night sky, and all around you was the quiet sound of nightly birds while crickets sang, hidden in the bushes of roses and hortensias or in the tall ominous trees of the garden. You inhaled deeply then exhaled content. It was an incredibly beautiful night, punctuated by the full moon and that spectacular view. 

The memory is still fresh like paint inside your head and it hunts you to this day. 

Behind closed lids, time rewinds to a century ago.

You sit on a bamboo deckchair, a glass of white wine in one hand while the other taps on your crossed legs. 

"I'm so glad you could come tonight" the man sitting on the opposite side of the small bamboo table says. 

"Yeah?" you hum, taking a sip of your wine. 

"Yeah. You brought with you a sense of calm and stillness that this place doesn't have. In the slightest. And I get to enjoy this incredible evening with you, so thank you very much for that Y/N" he says smiling. 

"Well, first of all, thank you for inviting me. Second of all, shut it you idiot. Though I'm glad my presence here is well received" you smile back. 

A veil of comfortable silence fell over you and you look up, going back to stargazing.

It was clear of clouds and the stars were shining so brightly you let yourself wonder if those were their last moments of glory before their grand finale. 

You turn to him again, locking eyes with his, still fixed on your face with a cloudy expression. 

"Are you okay?" you ask surprised, taken aback from the serious expression but it vanishes in the matter of one second, he hurriedly laughs it off. 

"Absolutely dear, I'm perfectly content. Why? Is something bothering you?" he asks, deflecting your question. 

His eyes were shining with a wicked glint, something dangerous you couldn't quite place. It wasn't scary or aggressive, just a gloom of something dark. 

"Uh, no no. I'm okay, more than okay. I was just wondering if someone else would join us on this beautiful night." you smile softly, hoping to be gentle. 

Mark has never been the best at confronting problems, he has a tendency to curl up and avoid confrontation until what's inside him suddenly explodes out. 

In that moment, you didn't want to be the one who popped the hot balloon. 

"Oh." he sounds mildly surprised but his eyes wander up and down as they follow silhouettes of constellations, avoiding your concerned stare. 

"No, it's just the two of us. Damien is busy. William is out of town. Same for Celine." he answers stiffly. 

"Ah. Well that's too bad, they're missing out on such a wonderful time. I feel bad for them. " you gaze up then back to him, he smiles fondly now looking down at his hands. 

"Yeah. At least you're here though." his eyes look into yours, sadness in those words. 

"Mark, I'll always be with you when you need me. I may not be the most resourceful person but I'm present and would be glad to help you out when you're feeling under the weather" you reassure him with a kind smile, a promise latched on to those words. 

"You really mean that?" he asks, eyes glossy.

"Of course, Mark." you smile a toothy, embarrassed grin.

"Thank you so, so, so much Y/N. It means so damn much to me. I can't even describe it" he sniffles. 

"Oh!" you exclaim bewildered and he looks up to you lamely.

"Hey… Hey, it's no problem Mark, really." you stand up and set the glass on the small table.

You go by his side and put your left hand on his shoulder, then you sit down in front of him and lunge forward to hug his trembling form properly. 

He grasps your shoulders so hard it's starting to hurt but you brush the pain off without a thought.  
You crush him into your arms, then you hug him ever tighter and whisper small comforting words to try and make him feel better until his trembling lessens. 

"I have no idea what's happening to me… " he whispers distraught. 

You brush your fingers through his hair, unkempt and wild, and push his face into the crook of your neck hoping that it could shield him from the ugliness of the world just for a moment, away from all the confusing sadness. 

He's still trembling slightly but let's out a couple of ragged exhales until his breathing becomes steadier. 

"I see your struggles. I see all the sadness and anger that's festering inside you." you sigh and continue "I'm not here to push you into telling me what's up with you and the others." you move him back slightly, just enough that he's looking you in the eyes "What I'm here for is: support, some laughs, a couple of glasses of wine and my friend Mark. I'm also here to be a listening buddy, if you want that of me." you say, with a hopeful grin. 

"Thank you." he smiles sorrowful "I will tell you, pinky promise, but not today. I want to enjoy this nice evening with you, not bitch 'bout stupid things" he squeezes your hand. 

"Okay, but as soon as we're free we'll have a picnic and then you can tell me whatever it is that's been bothering you. Deal?" you ask, offering your other hand. 

"Deal" he grins slightly, bumping it with his fist.


	2. Dying Stars

He wipes the tears away and smiles to you with a warm glow that makes your heart squeeze. 

With both of your wine glasses left aside, you breathe in and relish in the calmness of the night.

He stands up and with a flourish extends his hand to you, "Fancy a dance with me?" he asks, over-seductive. 

You giggle and take it and with two pirouettes he leaves you to get the record player going. 

Jazz fills the frizzy air and you laugh as he takes your hands to move around unruly, wild with no scheme of a dance. 

There is such a liberating feeling to this, just waving your limbs to the sound of trumpets, swinging around like a poorly trained dancer but laughing so much your body can hardly do both actions contemporary. 

While you move like an ungraceful rhino he's so elegant and contained it's almost ridiculous. You shake your head in disbelief. 

"C'mon Mark! Loosen up a little!" you grin, shaking him by the shoulders and taking his hands, you swing them up and down, left and right, round and around. 

He initially looks shocked but after a huff and a laugh he let's go of his strict pose and becomes pliant to your unruly requests. 

The music is so lively you can't help but dance, moving your body to the rhythm. 

It's not like you're very good at it either but the fun that comes from moving like that, and the pure exhilaration stemming from a sudden change in the mood totally sets you alive with glee. 

He laughs an earthly and rich sound and intertwining your fingers to his, he makes you pirouette three times in a row to subsequently crush you into his chest and hug you like a plushbear. 

"Thank you so fucking much Y/N" he says, voice rich with unspoken feelings.

You look him in the eyes and smile so pure and genuine he feels himself die a little.  
You're so kind and ready to cheer a friend up, you could be the definition of perfect.  
Words always right, ready to be spoken, at the best moment, and if looks could kill he's sure yours could bring a dead man back to life again.

"I'm just dancin' Mark" you chuckle "But you're welcome nonetheless" you say, smile's turning cheesy and a little giddy. 

The record comes to an end and you two separate with short breath and a cheeky grin plastered on both of your faces. 

He goes to remove it and he puts a new one on, this time something calmer and smoother. The melody is so charming, like a lullaby for lovers. 

You mentally punch yourself in the throat because you're an absolute idiot for even thinking that, though it's a nice thought and childish enough to pass as random brain chatter. You grunt at yourself, deciding to let it be for now.

He turns to you, his dark eyes gleaming with something obscure and far away.  
Your eyes are locked with his even when he comes to a halt right before you and there, he grabs your forearm and suddenly you're really close. 

He squeezes you so delicately you fear he might think of you as made of crystal and despite this distasteful idea, you lose yourself in his warm embrace and oh, he's so soft and right now you're confident that this is what he needs, otherwise he wouldn't be requesting it so often was it just a sudden whim. 

"Are you okay?" you whisper, hugging him back.  
"I… uhm, yeah" he says repentant, chin sitting on your head. 

You've always found fascinating how Mark acts and speaks, his very actions so different from how he feels. Honest to heart, you've always found him rather unique and you could call it denial or whatever but it wasn't love or romantic attraction that lured you in, it was just him. Lovely brown eyes that resemble dark honey, hair so dark it's pitch black; his skin is golden, his broad shoulders and powerful stance give him the strong appearance of a person of power which yeah, he absolutely is.  
He carries himself in a way that you can only describe as humble confidence and even if sometimes he could look menacing he remained gentle in his heart.

Rumors had started to spread and stories built up to a point that a totally different man was told of. Not a gentle and proud person but a self-centered, carefree, egocentric idiot that lazed about all day. People couldn't be more annoying and yet, they could.  
Mark had made enemies in the industry of cinematics and politics because of his money, his career, his statements and so on.  
He'd always done great things with his fortune, especially since the moment he'd inherited his family's money, he helped his friends reach a position of power quite satisfying.  
He knew many people from Hollywood, travelling and partying but never really had a special bond with any of them. The only close friends he had ever got since little were William, Damien and Celine. He'd gotten to know you later in life, on a special occasion at a party. 

You've been hugging for some minutes now, silence filling the air while your fingers intertwine with his hair and his hands press against your back towards his chest, drawing circles. 

The music is still going and it's so soothing and surreal you ask yourself if in reality you aren't passed out on the floor. Not exactly a poet.

"This is so nice" he whispers next to your ear.  
"Yes, it is." you're whispering too, the sound of your voice almost drowned out by the music and the night sounds. 

You lift your head and whilst watching the sky, you speak, tone of wonder, head wandering between the stars you're admiring.  
  
"You ever watch the stars and ask yourself if they're really content just being pretty and shiny, always in position and ready to illuminate the universe with their precious light? Do you think they feel alone, so far away from each other? Or perhaps, they're incredibly pressured by our worship and they feel depressed, waiting impatiently for the moment they'll implode and explode? It's feasible if you consider it" you know you're starting to get repetitive and unequivocally personal, still, you can't help but spill out your inner worries and finish your train of thought: "Mayhap they hate being held to such an unshakeable destiny. Mayhap they just want to exist without having so many expectations held against them. It must be a burden to always be pretty and shiny."  


Everything is silent. Even nature seems to have gone mute, or maybe all this talking made you deaf to the real world and you've locked up yourself inwards again. But no, the evening is still very alive as the music echoes through the walls of the mansion and the nocturnal fauna makes noises of its own. 

You feel scrutinized by the world and small like you are in it's vastness you can't help but feel silly if not, even inconsequential.  
Suddenly you remember you're not alone and your panicked eyes find Mark's wide ones.  
He's stunned, your words cut through him like knives but it's the vacancy in your voice that scares him the most.  


"You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we never met. I probably wouldn't be here to enjoy this beautiful evening. Had I never gotten the lucky chances and the awful circumstances I've encountered along my way to this present time, I would probably be in the streets, starving, with no job or will to go on." you sigh then continue "But it's not like that. I have a wonderful job. Wonderful friends. A wonderful home and I can cook, I'm quite good at it actually. I have no reason to think about the possibility of that life" your voice gets quieter "But I can't help it". 

He's looking at you so intently you feel your skin burn from the intensity.  
"Why are telling me this?" he asks, tone quiet and stark.  
"Wha-? I don't know, I just felt like getting it out of my system" you answer, feeling your heart sink and add immediately "You… it's nice talking to you. It's easy to share my problems with someone who has some of their own, that way we can help each other out. I figured." you try to smile but it feels more like a scared scowl than anything else, you drop it.

The music has stopped, now only ominous shadows and creepy birds watch over your heads.

There is a loud silence. The air around you is heavy with words spoken long ago and decades of cogitation from dozens of minds. A history that is repeated so many times, you can almost hear echoes of past conversations. 

"It's all so complicated " he says after a pause, hands shaking, pressing you still against him.  
"I know it is. I'd like to know more but I respect your wish, I just want to know this: are you okay?" you hug him back.  
His laugh is unhappy, sounds so harsh and brittle, so pained, and a single syllable is his answer: "No".  
Your grip on him tightens but you don't say anything else, you're just being there, solid and concrete for him.  
After a moment you decide to break the fragile silence. "I...I'd figured as much" you sigh.  
He makes a step backwards and with his hands on your shoulders he scoots you backwards a little and looks you in the eyes, his own shining dangerously.  
"What do you mean?" he asks, tone callous.  
"I noticed you were a bit down lately, you didn't have the usual bombastic voice you use when talking about the things you love." you whisper evading his burning stare but you keep talking unrelenting "Slowly, you stopped acknowledging little things like a new ring or suit or shoes. Then, you stopped asking how things were, stopped talking and just listened, mutely. You stopped reaching out. Eventually, you disappeared." 

You look away from the flowers behind him, your visual focus until now, and place your eyes directly in front of his.

"This is just a guess but am I here just because you and the others had an argument? Damien looks distressed and is being more of a hot-head than usual. As of late I often need to step in to stop him from knocking out every soul that comes near him. I've no idea what happened and honestly, I'm not here for that, but I'm really worried Mark. I care a lot for you and seeing you broken like this makes my heart cry" your hands fumble together anxiously, close to your chest, and your voice is quiet as you say this but there is a tremor in it that makes him shudder. He feels ashamed.  
  
You can sense the weight of his stare on you and you feel yourself shrink to the size of a bee.  


He's still silent as he puts his arms around you and caresses your head.  
"I'm sorry I made you worry so much, it was never my intention to do so." his voice is so low that his baritone vibrates through you.  
You put your arms around his neck and his grip tightens instinctively.  
"Life as been hell lately. You don't know the whole situation and I'm sorry I made you feel like you were here just as a distraction but you really aren't. I enjoy your company dearly and you never fail to make me feel better. You're such a wonderful person, I didn't want to bring you down but I didn't realise that by shutting you out I was doing the exact opposite of sparing you of this sorry excuse of a man that I am" he says, voice broken and loaded of self-hatred and hurt.  
"Mark…" your voice is bitter, yet still wavers.  
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I tried to be discreet but I failed. I feel like my entire life has been built on lies and that my empire is but a mess of corpses. Traitors are always ready to appear out of the shadows and who I thought was family in reality was the devil that devours innocent souls."  


A sudden realisation hits you. Of course.  
If Mark and Damien had argued two were the potential reasons: money and love life.  
Something told you it somehow involved Celine.  


"For the love of God, Mark, what is going on inside that silly head of yours?" you question, a fragile smile on your wet cheeks. You'd started crying now.  
"That's the problem. So many things. And they're eating me alive" he answers and he sounds so broken it physically hurts.  
"I'll be an earing buddy tonight, for you. Would that be okay?" you ask again.  
"No." He cuts you and you feel as if you've been hit in the guts but seeing your reaction he keeps talking: "Tomorrow morning, I swear. Come to my room and we'll have tea and breakfast. We'll talk about the whole thing as we eat" he says, still fixated on delaying the inevitable.  
"Okay, but please, don't push yourself too hard. And don't punish yourself over things that you probably didn't have anything to do with" you say as you step away from him.  
His eyes are red but he's not crying, you are though so you quickly dab the tears away.  


You try to smile and you do manage one, even if wobbly.  
He looks you in the eyes, silent for a second then he smiles as well.  
"Thank you Y/N" his voice is genuine and full of gratitude.  
"Don't mention it, Mark" you punch him on the arm "Besides, all I did was cry and dance" your smile gets broader, so does his.  
"Yeah, well, I do have many more discs you will absolutely love" he turns around and fumbles with the record player, putting on a new melody.

It sounds broken but it's beautiful and the rapid notes remind you of the dying stars that shine above your head.

"I do not know this melody's name but I can tell you that from now on when I'll want to hear this one I'll call it 'Dying Stars' and you will have to know what I'm referencing otherwise our friendship is over, old man" you smirk, moving your feet to the rhythm. 

"All right, but hey, if you forget it I'll have the right to invite you here again so I can remind you of it" he smirks too, meaningful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, hope you like it though.  
> By the way, we're starting dive into serious grounds.


End file.
